Brothers In Arms: Ronovan Writes Weekly Haiku Prompt Challenge #60

bridging-life1This week, the prompt words for Ronovan Writes Weekly Haiku Poetry Challenge are BRIDGE and MOVE.

The example provided by Ronovan:

SEASONS ARE TO BRIDGE

LIFE FROM BEGINNING TO END,

WILL CHANGE YOUR FUTURE.

If you’ve never tried out a haiku before, and you’d like to learn more, click here to read Ronovan’s article on how to write a haiku poem in English form.

I often use my current work in progress as inspiration for the haikus, and a little poetic license! I’ve got a lot to learn yet about this form of poetry, but I enjoy both the challenge and the practice. My current WIP is about men and women who served together – one in particular who had quite a journey to recovery.

navigate through hell

Thanks for stopping by.

Mel

Wings of love: Ronovan Writes Weekly Haiku Prompt Challenge #59

ronovan_writes_haiku_prompt_badge_autumn_2014I haven’t participated for a few weeks but, after reading my friend Colleen’s post, I felt inspired to take part. Colleen lost her sister eighteen years ago, and wrote a poem entitled Kathy’s Cardinal. It’s beautiful. You should definitely check it out.

This week, the prompt words for Ronovan Writes Weekly Haiku Poetry Challenge are RED and BIRD.

The example provided by Ronovan:

AS THE SUN BURNS RED,

HEARTS RISE FROM THEIR MISERY,

LIKE LOVE ON BIRD WINGS.

If you’ve never tried out a haiku before, and you’d like to learn more, click here to read Ronovan’s article on how to write a haiku poem in English form.

cardinal

Thanks for stopping by.

Mel

Mel’s Midweek Writing Menagerie #11

Mel's Midweek Writing Menagerie

Welcome to my weekly writing prompt series. The rules of the challenge are simple. I’ve provided two options below, and there’s a handy link-up button at the end of the post, so you can upload your contribution and share it with others. If you prefer to use the pingback method, I’ll check out each link I receive. Here is the hashtag, should you wish to use it – #MelsWritingMenagerie.

Before I get to the prompts, I’d like to share with you an entry from last week by R. Todd. To read the full, original post, click on the title.

The Killing Blow by R. Todd

Malevolence swirled in the air; it coated my skin like an oily residue of evil. It drew me deeper in, preying on the hatred and anger I harbored for years, and like a fire raging out of control, it consumed me on the inside. My eyes boiled, my breath deepened, my chest swelled and my heart beat loudly in my ears. My hand gripped the handle of the sword, fingers flexing reflexively on the leather-covered grip.

I relished in the weight, feeling the heaviness of my weapon of warfare, knowing that it hungered for battle just as much as I did. I hunched down, my legs swelling with power as I prepared to launch myself into the fray, to become one with the dance of death and to unleash the destruction that bound up inside of me.


 

All entries are shared over at Featured Fiction.

So, on to the next set of prompts. Grab the badge and write a post based on either of the following options:

Option 1: Sentence Starter –

I awoke at precisely 3.02 a.m., my internal alarm screaming at me – something was wrong.

This sentence can appear anywhere in the story. The maximum word count is 1,000 words. The genre can be any of your choosing; either factual or fiction based. You may use art to interpret the sentence, or poetry if you wish.

Option 2: Story on a postcard –

Write a piece of micro fiction; a story that would fit on a postcard. Your theme is loss.


 

Thanks for stopping by.

Mel

 


Hope #BlogBattle Writing Challenge

Organised by Rachael Ritchey – http://www.rachaelritchey.com

#BlogBattle is a weekly writing challenge organised by Rachael Ritchey. You can find more information about it here. It’s a fun battle, and a supportive group – a great place to hang out! The theme this week is ‘OASIS’.

“Please. Stop this.” My words were barely coherent; my throat raw from my protests, from screaming so long and loud I’d bruised my vocal cords.

I didn’t expect an answer; knew the cool liquid mixing with my bloodstream would soon become an inferno which burnt my skin. My eyes were closed, but I knew what I would find when I opened them. A cold, sterile room. My prison.

“I’m here.”

But you’re not.

I raised my lids, staring into Sam’s familiar face. Instead of hope, I felt pain; the kind which bruised my heart. She was a mirage and, like a watering hole in my own barren landscape, Sam became my oasis. The one who sustained me during my torture, the one just beyond my reach.

My eyes filled with tears, and Sam’s features wavered. I saw a pair of cold, expressionless green eyes staring back at me.

“If you tell us what we want to know, all this goes away. You’ll be free.” The words were without emotion; the voice as cold as the eyes.

Laughter broke free, the sound eerie in the small room. My sanity had fractured long ago, left as broken as my body. Still, they could not win. The secrets they wanted were hidden behind an impenetrable wall inside my mind.

My captors had tried everything. There were so many drugs in my system it was a wonder I still lived, though I hoped for death. It wasn’t the pain I sought to escape. I was prepared for that. It was the hope. The hallucinations were far more dangerous than their devices of torture. I didn’t know what was real anymore.

Even now I could hear the sounds of battle; gunfire echoing through the room. I started to laugh again; the walls of my prison vibrating with the violence in the air. What new reality had my mind conjured this time?

My tormentor was screaming at me, but I couldn’t make out his words over the din.

“Just kill me already,” I said, blinking until the green eyes faded and the deep brown of Sam’s eyes came back into view.

I no longer cared she was an illusion. It hurt to look at her, and yet, even a phantom was better than being completely alone.

“It’s okay, we’re going to get you out of here,” she said. It’s what she always said.

I smiled, humouring us both. “I’m ready.”

This was not my first rescue, though the details varied in each case. Sam would start by unhooking me from the table. Sometimes she had to support my weight, other times my body was strong enough to make it across the room on my own. We would open the door to the white, sterile room and escape for a time.

“We need to hurry.”

That was new. Sam was usually confident, so sure of her movements. This time she fumbled with my wrist restraints, her eyes darting to the door.

“Dex!” She screamed the name, her breathing ragged.

“Hey, it’s okay. Everything will be okay,” I tried to reassure her, but she didn’t respond.

Dexter hurried to the table, a new addition to my hallucinations, but a welcome one. Dex was a good man; solid in a fight. This was going to be fun.

“I need your help,” Sam said. “You’ll need to carry Bailey out of here.”

“Wait, I can-”

Dex looked straight at me, his fingers prodding at my neck. “Shit, Sam, I can barely feel a pulse.”

“What?” My mind balked at that. Why weren’t they listening to me? What kind of crazy hallucination was this? I couldn’t even be a part of it.

A scream tore from my throat when Dexter lifted me off the table and threw me over his shoulder. I tried to squirm in his strong grip, but I was too weak – my body refused to cooperate.

“Everything’s going to be okay, Bailey,” Sam said from somewhere behind me, a second before Dexter moved.

I groaned in response. This illusion was no fun at all. Maybe that’s what happened when you lost all hope.


Thanks for stopping by

Mel

Mel’s Midweek Writing Menagerie #10

Mel's Midweek Writing MenagerieWelcome to my weekly writing prompt series. The rules of the challenge are simple. I’ve provided two options below, and there’s a handy link-up button at the end of the post, so you can upload your contribution and share it with others. If you prefer to use the pingback method, I’ll check out each link I receive. Here is the hashtag, should you wish to use it – #MelsWritingMenagerie.

Before we get to the prompts, I’d like to share with you the contribution from Louise Findlay. Louise wrote a piece in response to prompt two last week – here is a sneak peak. To read the full, original post, click on the title.

THE GOBLET OF STARS: EXCERPT OF CHAPTER 1 – A HARRY POTTER/M.I. HIGH FANFICTION PIECE

Agh. My dark mark had been flaring up all year. I clutched my forearm as my brand ignited. This was the real thing. The Dark Lord had come to life again. I would have to go to him. He would hunt me down and the people I loved if I didn’t. I endured many sleepless nights pondering what I would do when he was resurrected.

The call came at the worst possible time. I was heading a mission trying to prevent a nuclear launch and Frank was about to get his head scrambled.

“Frank, no. I’ve got to go. Capture someone else and get them into that chair” I said.

I hated having to abandon them like this but I had to. I hope he managed to swear his team to secrecy. I did not want to explain this to MI9.

“What? Why? Oh. Stella, please don’t go” he pleaded.

“We agreed, Frank. If I don’t, I’ll be putting your life in danger” I protested.

“Be careful. The password’s libertà stellato” he replied.

Starry freedom. I hoped to god that Frank would be available to tend to my wounds but if he wasn’t then I could gain access to his potions store. I tended to overdose myself on pain potions and dreamless sleep. Through my dark mark, the Dark Lord could always plague my nightmares even when I was on a normal amount of dreamless sleep. I was hopeless at Occulmency and my method of defending my mind through attacking with legilimency only really worked on the Dark Lord when I was awake. I was sadly not blessed with a talent for Occulmency like Professor Snape.


All entries are shared over at Featured Fiction.

So, on to the next set of prompts. Grab the badge and write a post based on either of the following options:

Option 1: Sentence Starter –
Malevolence swirled in the air; it coated my skin like an oily residue of evil.

This sentence can appear anywhere in the story. The maximum word count is 1,000 words. The genre can be any of your choosing; either factual or fiction based. You may use art to interpret the sentence, or poetry if you wish.

Option 2: Fanfiction –

Using your favourite characters from film, television or literature, write a fight scene – or a scene which highlights conflict between two or more characters.

Thanks for stopping by.

Mel

Mel’s Midweek Writing Menagerie #9

Mel's Midweek Writing MenagerieWelcome to my weekly writing prompt series. The rules of the challenge are simple. I’ve provided two options below, and there’s a handy link-up button at the end of the post, so you can upload your contribution and share it with others. If you prefer to use the pingback method, I’ll check out each link I receive. Here is the hashtag, should you wish to use it – #MelsWritingMenagerie.

Before we get to the prompts for this week, let’s look at the previous entries. Click on the title to read the full, original post (I’ve only provided a preview). Here they are:

The Elf Killer – Part IV: A New Discovery by Colleen Chesebro

Rawmall slowly rolled over on the hard-packed earthen floor of the burned out elven hut. His head throbbed and felt like brilliant flashes of lightning were slicing into his brain. The acrid smell of smoke lingered in the hut as well as another unsavory aroma, of which he could not remember the source.

Gently, so as to not disturb his pounding head, he shifted his weight to his hands and knees. He balanced himself for a moment. Once the hammering in his brain subsided, he rose to his feet. Rawmall noticed that darkness had descended on the burned out elven community of Morr. He staggered towards the grey ashy remains of a fire where a cauldron was perched, still warm. The stench was overpowering and suddenly he remembered the events of the day.


The Musings of a Desolate Demigod – A Dusty Wastelands of Tartarus Flash Fiction Piece by Louise Findlay

Our mothers and fathers had ravenged the world, leaving almost nothing left in their eternal wars. The devastation they had wrought rivalled that of the creatures and gods they were fighting. I was related to a murderer of the highest degree. I swear I would kill him if I ever saw him again.

My kind were in decline. Most fell in the Parallax War. There were demigods on both sides. Some sided with their godly parents and some defected to the opposing side. The war was originally over the fate of Olympus and the mortals but it just turned demigod against demigod and god against god. The sides were clear cut in the beginning with good against evil but the lines blurred.


All entries are shared over at Featured Fiction.

So, on to the next set of prompts. Grab the badge and write a post based on either of the following options:

Option 1: Sentence Starter –

My grandmother always used to say – if you can’t make a good first impression, at least make a lasting one.


Option 2: Fanfiction –

Re-write the ending to one of your favourite movies.


Have fun!

Thanks for stopping by.

Mel

What’s in a name? #BlogBattle Writing Challenge

#BlogBattle is a weekly writing challenge organised by Rachael Ritchey. You can find more information about it here. It’s a fun battle, and a supportive group – a great place to hang out! The theme this week is ‘EYE’.

I’m working on the third novel in my Morgan and Fairchild series. It is taking longer than it should to get back into the right headspace, so writing a short story using one of the characters really helped. Here is my contribution to the challenge. I hope you enjoy.


Andrew Butcher was stuck between a rock and a hard place. The hard being his buddy, Dom; the guy was one tough son of a bitch. He was also out cold and, judging by the head wound, would be for a while.

Andrew squinted into the dark, listening to the sounds of pursuit. He didn’t bother trying to radio for help, his team wouldn’t get to them in time; they were on their own. He glanced at the blood, which still trickled down Dom’s face; despite his efforts to stanch the flow. There was a nasty cut, running from Dom’s left eyebrow to the centre of his nose, dangerously close to his left eye.

Removing his helmet, Andrew slipped off the bandanna. In a few swift, decisive movements he secured it tightly around Dom’s head. The material covered his left eye completely, but it did the job.

That done, he angled his body beneath Dom’s and, gritting his teeth, Andrew stood. His muscles protested, a complaint Andrew ignored; though he did curse his friend to hell and back. He should have known their intel was too good to be true. Extractions were always the worst assignments, there were just too many variables. Now Andrew’s team was scattered, and his only choice was to try and make it to safety with a dead weight on his back.

The thought filled him with a sense of unease. If he didn’t get Dom out safely, it was on him. But at least they didn’t have to rely on blind luck. They had an exit strategy, one which helped Andrew to circumvent the enemy. His instincts didn’t let him down either, even with the heavy load.

After almost a mile with Dom on his back, Andrew finally began to relax; or his legs were feeling particularly free and loose. He paused to catch his breath. The darkness slipped around them like an old friend. Andrew was comfortable in the shadows. He used them now to lower Dom to the dry, cracked earth. It was either that or drop him on his head; Dom was thrashing like a fish on a hook.

“Jesus, Butch. I feel like I was hit by a truck,” Dom muttered.

“Try carrying one on your back.”

Dom snorted, pulling at the bandanna. “Is this your idea of a joke?”

Despite their situation, Andrew laughed. Dom’s nickname within the team was Cyclops, so he understood the reference. “Forgive me for wanting to keep the brains inside your skull.”

Dom grinned, waiting just long enough for the customary, ‘What brains?’ which they voiced at the same time.

Of course the moment was ruined by the arrival of their enemy.

“How you feeling, Dom?” Andrew asked, assessing the threat; only two of the men were armed.

“Like I could go another few rounds with that truck.” He didn’t pause for effect. Dom knew Andrew had his back, and would cover him. He engaged with the enemy before they even raised a weapon.

The man was a whirlwind and, even with the injury, he fought with a brutal kind of grace. His sharp focus, size and strength had earned him the name Cyclops in the field. Watching him in action, Andrew knew the only way he’d been able to carry him so far was a result of the adrenalin coursing through his system. Pure and simple. Dom wasn’t a truck, he was a tank, and he was pissed.

He made it look so easy, Andrew almost took a load off. Still, a part of him waited for the other shoe to drop – or Dom – one or the other. The big guy was swaying a little by the end. Not that they had anything to worry about now. Andrew could feel his team, moving silently towards them in the dark.

“Maybe you should carry me for a while,” Andrew said, when Dom turned in his direction.

Dom’s gaze dropped to the dark red stain on Andrew’s shoulder. “You’ve been hit.”

Andrew rolled his eyes. “Tell me something I don’t know. The bullet’s the least of my problems, I think you dislocated my shoulder.”

“More like acted as a tourniquet.” They laughed again, as Dom swung an arm around Andrew’s shoulders. “Let’s get the hell out of here, Sarg. This heat is giving me a headache.”

Andrew groaned. Not that it was the worst joke he heard on the way back to base. Cyclops was also king of the one liners.


 

Thanks for stopping by.

Mel

Mel’s Midweek Writing Menagerie #8

Mel's Midweek Writing MenagerieWelcome to my weekly writing prompt series. The rules of the challenge are simple. I’ve provided two options below, and there’s a handy link-up button at the end of the post, so you can upload your contribution and share it with others. If you prefer to use the pingback method, I’ll check out each link I receive. Here is the hashtag, should you wish to use it – #MelsWritingMenagerie.

But before we get to the prompts, I wanted to draw your attention to the entries from last week. Click on each title to read the full, original post (I’ve only provided a preview). Here they are:

The First Time I Died by Corina Carrasco

The first time I died, I was nineteen years old, and resigned to my fate; the second time was a different story.  The first time I was leaving a horrible situation.  I didn’t care to stay any longer, even though it meant my demise.  That was okay.

But then, I found myself in paradise and I never wanted to leave it.  I could see the deep blue water from the high point on the island.  The palm trees shaded me from the hot sun and let me hear their fronds tickling each other as the winds made them sway coquettishly.  A gentle breeze.  Just enough to move the air around.  There was so much fruit every where.  I would never feel the rumblings of my empty stomach on this island.


The Elf Killer – Part III by Colleen Chesebro
As the darkness arrived in Timmoral Forest, Nedra the Witch watched the shadows grow long and deep as they descended and grew from the tall stature of the trees surrounding the glen. Conjuring her deepest magic she had materialized outside the cave she called home on the edge of the forest in order to safely escape from Rawmall, the half-breed elf.
Nedra paced back and forth in front of the door to her cave thinking of what her next move should be. Damn, Rawmall! That half-breed elf makes my blood boil, she thought. She didn’t need to take any more chances around him. His power over her was purely physical. Nedra wanted him in the worst way. If she succumbed to his charms, she would lose everything, again. Death was much too high a price to pay for a sexual tryst with a half-breed elf at this point. Not yet, anyway.


A Situation by Cassie Newell
The first time I died, I was nineteen years old and resigned to my fate; the second time was a different story. Life with it’s strange plot twists, I think back, and my fate of dying with cancer was more dignified than where I am now. I fought the fight. I freaking kicked its ass! Let’s be clear here, it was no walk in the park. I had many conversations with the Almighty and my doctor’s who thought they were the almighty, about my situation. It was just that, a situation. One last option – surgery.

I died on the operating table…coded, flat lined. Sayonara everyone, that’s all she wrote. Okay, well she put the pen back down but dang if she didn’t wait a good thirty seconds before she jumps starts my heart.


Reasons For Rejection: Rejection Spinoff – An M.I. High Fanfic

“Why? Stella, you can’t just kiss me and then reject me. If you don’t love me then fine but if you do, just tell me why you keep refusing to talk? You owe me that much” Frank said.

Oh, Frank. This was entirely my fault. His depression was my fault. I still loved him of course I did but I wanted to protect him. I was Chief Agent now and am an even bigger target than before. We were both at the top of KORPS’ hit list and I knew they would harm him just to get to me.

All entries are shared over at Featured Fiction.
So, on to the next set of prompts. Grab the badge and write a post based on either of the following options:

Option 1: Sentence Starter –
I live in a society without rules, without boundaries; it is a dark and desolate place.

Option 2: Fanfiction –

Write a diary entry from the point of view of your favourite character from film, television, or literature.


Have fun!

Thanks for stopping by.

Mel

Connection: Ronovan Writes Weekly Haiku Prompt Challenge #55

challenge-55-thrive-maya-angelou

This week, the prompt words for Ronovan Writes Weekly Haiku Poetry Challenge are FIVE and THRIVE.

The example provided by Ronovan:

Breathe to be alive,

while you exercise to thrive;

exhausted, take five.

If you’ve never tried out a haiku before, and you’d like to learn more, click here to read Ronovan’s article on how to write a haiku poem in English form.

I decided to go with a Tanka, as the haiku I wrote felt incomplete, and chose today to post, because it relates to a character from The Fallen, and it’s release day! I hope you enjoy 🙂

darkness thrivedThanks to Ronovan for providing the opportunity.

Mel


My friend Colleen, over at Silver Threading kindly hosted me today. I just wanted the opportunity to say thanks to Colleen for her support. I really enjoyed writing the origin story.

P395 – #BlogBattle Writing Challenge

#BlogBattle is a weekly writing challenge organised by Rachael Ritchey. You can find more information about it here. It’s a fun battle, and a supportive group – a great place to hang out! The theme this week is ‘PROPHET’.

Here is my contribution to the challenge. I hope you enjoy.


The sun was setting as I reached the brow of the hill. The sky drew my attention like a moth to a brightly coloured flame. For a moment I stood, watching the colours bleed together; reds, and oranges, and a fading blue.

I knew what I would find when I turned, had seen it as a moving picture predicting future events. It’s what the facility expected of those like me; a personal viewing of what was yet to come.

When the sky no longer held my interest I turned, finally ready to face what had to be done. I barely registered the cabin as I walked towards it. It was exactly how it was supposed to be, down to the smoke rising from the chimney. The bright blue curtains were closed, their shade darker now the sun no longer lit the glass. Glancing down I was not surprised to see the worn boots by the door, or the shovel resting against the doorjamb. Everything was at it was supposed to be. All except me.

This was David’s path, not mine; a path which was set to end in exactly two hours. That’s how long I had to change my friend’s future, to save the leader of our kind.

David and I were born in a facility, one he had managed to escape. Most saw his freedom as a symbol of hope. All I felt was loss. I knew what would happen before I saw his path. If things had been different, if I had been different, I might have let it play out and accepted my life in a cage. But it was a test, one set by those in power; the monsters who studied our kind like lab rats, and forced us to predict the future of strangers.

My pulse jumped when the door cracked open. This was the part I hadn’t foreseen; from here on out it was unscripted.

“Joseph?” I had only a second to process David’s words and then I was dragged across the threshold, into the room in which my friend was meant to die. “What are you doing here?”

“Buying you a little extra time. I hope.”

We stared at each other, pale gold eyes clashing with pale gold.

“You saw my future.” David dropped his head in defeat. “This was a test.”

“It will be the last. Whatever happens, I can promise you that.”

Where did such conviction come from? I wondered. I had always been the weak one; the runt of the litter. Yet David had never viewed me that way. I was never P395 to him. He had named me Joseph, selecting a prophet because it amused him. In the facility we were known only by our designation.

“You’ve seen my path, haven’t you?” David said.

For the first time in my life I lied to my friend, or perhaps it was bending the truth as David often saw it. “No. When they strapped me to the chair, and brought up the candidate, I saw only you. Finding you was easy.”

I don’t remember whose face had been on the control screen; not their race, their age, or gender. I had no intention of connecting with them.

David blew out a surprised breath. “But how-”

“I made it up.”

“You made it up?”

I glanced away so he couldn’t detect the emotion behind my words. “I put on quite a show. Stuttering through the horror of what I’d seen.”

David was nodding. “You knew they wouldn’t share a negative result with the candidate.”

“Exactly.”

I didn’t tell him that my anguish had been very real. That watching my friend die almost tore a hole in my sanity.

“But if you didn’t see my path, how did you know where to find me?”

My pulse kicked up, the guilt like acid in my gut. “I saw all I needed to see, that you were allowed to escape. It was all the incentive I needed.”

I could feel David’s gaze burning into the side of my head. If I looked at him, eye to eye, he would see straight through me.

“So what happens now? How do you know your escape isn’t part of the same test?”

“You’ll just have to trust me,” I said, my words punctuated by the sound of an approaching engine. All we had to do was evade the team who were closing in on David’s location. I hadn’t been quick enough to stop them.

I looked across at him, meeting his eyes again. “We’re not alone. The others came with me.” I nodded towards the headlights. “That’s them.”

“The others?” David took a step closer, his gold eyes lit by too much knowledge. “What did you do?”

“I told you. I bought us a head start.” I glanced at the door and back again. “And the others are here because we all earned our freedom.”

“Joseph.” David stepped out into the night with me. “Tell me what you did.”

My gaze roamed the sky, recalling the colours which had drawn my attention earlier. “I burnt the facility to the ground.”


Thanks for stopping by.

Mel